That’s what he’s like!”
“Ach, Natasha, but perhaps that’s all not true, that’s only gossip.
How can a boy like that get married!”
“I tell you his father has special objects of his own.”
“But how do you know that this young lady is so charming, and that he is already attracted by her?”
“Why, he told me so himself.”
“What!
Told you himself that he might love another woman, and demands this sacrifice from you now?”
“No, Vanya, no.
You don’t know him. You’ve not been much with him. You must know him better before you judge of him.
There isn’t a truer and purer heart than his in the world.
Why, would it be better if he were to he?
And as for his being attracted by her, why, if he didn’t see me for a week he’d fall in love with some one else and forget me, and then when he saw me he’d be at my feet again.
No!
It’s a good thing I know it, that it’s not concealed from me, or else I should be dying of suspicion.
Yes, Vanya!
I have come to the conclusion; if I’m not always with him continually, every minute, he will cease to love me, forget me, and give me up.
He’s like that; any other woman can attract him.
And then what should I do?
I should die . . . die indeed I I should be glad to die now.
But what will it be for me to live without him?
That would be worse than death itself, worse than any agony!
Oh, Vanya, Vanya!
It does mean something that I’ve abandoned my father and mother for him!
Don’t try and persuade me, everything’s decided!
He must be near me every hour, every minute. I can’t go back.
I know that I am ruined and that I’m ruining others.... Ach, Vanya!” she cried suddenly and began trembling all over “what if he doesn’t love me even now!
What if it’s true what you said of him just now” (I had never said it), “that he’s only deceiving me, that he only seems to be so truthful and sincere, and is really wicked and vain!
I’m defending him to you now, and perhaps this very minute he’s laughing at me with another woman ... and I, I’m so abject that I’ve thrown up everything and am walking about the streets looking for him.... Ach, Vanya!”
This moan broke with such anguish from her heart that my whole soul filled with grief.
I realized that Natasha had lost all control of herself.
Only a blind, insane, intense jealousy could have brought her to this frantic resolution.
But jealousy flamed up in my heart, too, and suddenly burst out.
I could not restrain myself. A horrid feeling drew me on.
“Natasha,” I said, “there’s only one thing I don’t understand. How can you love him after what you’ve just said about him yourself?
You don’t respect him, you don’t even believe in his love, and you’re going to him irrevocably and are ruining everyone for his sake.
What’s the meaning of it?
He’ll torture you so as to spoil your whole life; yes, and you his, too.
You love him too much, Natasha, too much!
I don’t understand such love!”
“Yes, I love him as though I were mad,” she answered, turning pale as though in bodily pain.
“I never loved you like that, Vanya.
I know I’ve gone out of my mind, and don’t love him as I ought to.
I don’t love him in the right way.... Listen, Vanya, I knew beforehand, and even in our happiest moments I felt that he would bring me nothing but misery.
But what is to be done if even torture from him is happiness to me now?
Do you suppose I’m going to him to meet joy?
Do you suppose I don’t know beforehand what’s in store for me, or what I shall have to bear from him?
Why, he’s sworn to love me, made all sorts of promises; but I don’t trust one of his promises. I don’t set any value on them, and I never have, though I knew he wasn’t lying to me, and can’t lie.
I told him myself, myself, that I don’t want to bind him in any way.
That’s better with him; no one likes to be tied – I less than any,.